A seemingly reputable air-travel website is reporting that American Airlines has announced that they’re suspending their flights from both Miami and New York to Milan through 4.25.20. American Airlines notes that this decision is being made due to a reduction in demand. It also reports that last night a New York to Milan flight was cancelled “after an American Airlines crew allegedly refused to operate the flight “due to fears related to coronavirus in Northern Italy.”
Plummeting demand for a product or service invariably results in lower prices. This is why I recently decided to fly to Cannes by way of Milan rather than Paris. Why, then, are round-trips fares for New York to Milan flights still costing $600? That’s a typical, non-pandemic price. I’m looking for RT prices to drop to $400 or $450 tops, but they stubbornly won’t budge.
The article is in fact required reading for the contrarian dickheads who accused me yesterday of sounding like a broken record for merely pointing out the woke political undercurrent in The Invisible Man — for saying the film was rotely efficient as far as it went but at the same time was brandishing a certain socio-political consciousness.
Bobby Peru was the worst of them. As I wrote yesterday, “In Peru World films can only be made or processed as purely neutral artistic creations…there can be no such things as political or cultural influences.” He lies, he obfuscates, he blows smoke, he chokes on it.
I’ll admit that in my initial review I didn’t elaborate upon the real-world metaphors in The Invisible Man, partly because I felt numbed by the familiar horror-thriller shocks (Benjamin Wallfisch‘s assaultive score in particular) and partly because the subtext felt built-in from the get-go. But that aside…
Gleiberman #1: “Over the last few years, Hollywood’s mostly superficial onscreen attempt to deal with issues of women’s empowerment has resulted in a track record dotted with box-office failure, and this has given rise to a certain knee-jerk misogynistic appraisal of that phenomenon. It goes back, in a way, to the Ghostbusters remake, which was greeted with undisguised hostility before it was ever released. And when it turned out to be a so-so movie, it got beaten up on as if its failures, comedic and financial, somehow meant something.”
Gleiberman #2: “You could say that the premise of just about every woman-in-peril movie is that toxic masculinity is out there, that it’s scary and violent and dangerous, and that it’s coming for you. (That was true decades before the term ‘toxic masculinity’ was invented.) But when you watch The Invisible Man, the fearful and cunning new thriller starring Elisabeth Moss as a woman who fights off the cat-and-mouse stalking moves of a man she can’t see (and who therefore, to everyone else, doesn’t exist), what’s new is the heightened awareness of what it feels like — what it means — to be a woman in trouble whom no one believes. That’s what makes the film an expression of the #MeToo world.
Gleiberman #3: “The dimension that lifts the movie above Sleeping with the Enemy or a glossy FX potboiler like Paul Verhoeven’s Hollow Man is the dramatic finesse with which it turns Cecilia’s predicament into a potent projection of something that’s now at the heart of the culture. What I wanted to say is that her predicament — she’s under attack but people think she’s crazy, because her abuser is (supposedly) dead and (in reality) invisible — works as a metaphor.”
HE to Gleiberman: “Dramatic finesse”? This is a Blumhouse film deploying the usual suspense-and-shock tactics. And to emphasize her anxiety and panic, Moss does everything but bleed from her eyeballs.”
A half century ago a fascinating dispute about the then-embryonic feminist movement happened on The Dick Cavett Show. The combatants were Playboy publisher Hugh Hefner and feminist writers Susan Brownmiller and Sally Kempton.
You can immediately sense currents of vague alarm from Hefner and to some extent even from Cavett, and a certain patronizing tone from an avuncular psychiatrist who was sitting next to Hefner on the couch. Hefner blew himself up early on by addressing Brownmiller and Kempton as “girls” — so clueless.
A good deal of what Brownmiller and Kempton said during this segment is so conventional by present-day standards and not even approaching controversial.
Imagine if Brownmiller or Kempton had said to Cavett, “Just wait…50 years hence we’re going to have such a strong and compelling narrative that the older male establishment will be trembling…there will be a thing called ‘cancel culture’ that will have certain abusers shaking in their boots.”
Brownmiller: I think most of the marriage laws are very discriminatory. Against women. Cavett: Except in California with alimony, apparently. [to Kempton] Would you accept alimony if you were divorced? Kempton: No. Cavett: You wouldn’t. Kempton: Except I would think that a woman who has spent her whole life being a housewife and mother should [accept alimony]. I think that in such cases alimony is really the price that men pay for women’s oppression. Cavett: How do you explain the Margaret Chase Smiths and Helen Gurley Browns and Bess Myersons…women who’ve somehow fought through the system. Brownmiller: Society always allows a few to get through. There are always loopholes. Cavett: You speak as if there’s a conspiracy to keep women in their place. Brownmiller: There is a conspiracy. Cavett: But not a conscious one. You don’t think I go around consciously oppressing women, do you? Brownmiller: No, I don’t think so. Watching your shows, I really wouldn’t think [so]. You seem to like intelligent women, and you’re not afraid to have strong, intellectual women on your show. You’ve had marvellous intellectual discussions with Beverly Sills… Cavett: That’s because I’m weak and like to be dominated.
How dare the French Film Academy ignore the army of anti-Roman Polanski protestors by giving him the Cesar award for Best Director? Don’t they understand that the Cesars are not about honoring the finest in artistic achievement but about submitting to the current political narrative among #MeToo progressives and in furtherance of concurrent cancel-culture decrees?
Seriously, the members who voted for Polanski are to be commended for not allowing the militants to intimidate them into voting differently.
Variety is reporting that “numerous walkouts” happened at the Salle Pleyel when the Polanski win was announced. One of the evacuees was Best Actress nominee Adele Haenel, star of Portrait of a Lady on Fire.
Ladj Ly’s Les Miserables, one of the HE’s 2019 faves, won the Cesar for Best Picture. It also won the people’s choice prize. Les Miserables costar Alexis Manenti (he played the pugnacious racist cop) won for best male newcomer. The film also won for best editing.
I realize that institutional film awards are rarely about quality in and of itself and are usually about what the majority of voters believe to be the most the urgent political concerns (or moods or trends) of the moment.
In the French film industry there are two camps — the old guard and the progressive anti-Polanski-ites. The latter group, wanting to send a message to the industry about patterns of sexism and sexual exploitation, were angered that Polanski and An Officer and a Spy were nominated for several Cesar awards, and are now doubly appalled that he won.
The director and co-writer of An Officer and a Spy (aka J’Accuse) actually took two Cesar awards in Paris on Friday night — one for Best Director and another for Best Adapted Screenplay, shared with co-writer Robert Harris. An Officer and a Spy‘s Pascaline Chavanne also won a Cesar for best costume design.
Variety‘s Elsa Keslassy: Polanski didn’t attend the festivities. He announced a day or two ago that he feared a “public lynching” by feminist protestors if he went. Earlier today An Officer And A Spy producer Alain Goldman and star Jean Dujardin also announced they also wouldn’t be attending the Cesars. Goldman told AFP “an escalation of inappropriate and violent language and behavior” towards Polanski was the reason.
Joaquin Phoenix did something good a day after his big Oscar win, and this video (which is nicely shot) is affecting. It made me feel good that a place like Farm Sanctuary (5200 Escondido Canyon Rd, Acton, CA 93510) is operating. All bovines end up being killed sooner or later, but these people at least have a heart.
I actually saw two films last night, The Invisible Man and then a Kino Bluray of Peter Yates‘ Robbery (’67). The latter struck me as as a far better film than the Blumhouse newbie. Not to be mentioned in the same breath.
A lot of tense urban actioners have been called “taut”, “bracing” and “engrossing” over the years, but Robbery is one of the daddies of this sort of thing. At least in the British realm.
As much of a seminal influence upon crime films as Jules Dassin‘s Rififi, it feels real and un-performed and stripped of all pretentious bullshit. I was completely riveted from the get-go. As in “hold on, wait…this is good.”
I’ve been aware of it for decades, and I’ve no explanation for having been derelict all this time.
But I’m also glad I waited as the Kino Bluray looks magnificent, at least in my humble view. Distinct colors (at times a little loud), whistle clean, no grain to speak of
Robbery opens with a wild-ass, high-speed car chase through the streets of London, and of course this was the first major sequence of its type — a year before Yates’ San Francisco car chase in Bullitt and five years before William Friedkin‘s under-the-subway-track car chase in The French Connection.
It stars Stanley Baker, who produced along with Joseph E. Levine, and costars Joanna Pettet (as Baker’s wife) and James Booth as a canny British detective. The supporting players include Frank Finlay, Barry Foster (the necktie murderer in Frenzy), William Marlowe, Clinton Greyn, George Sewell and Glynn Edwards (the Albert” character in Get Carter whom Michael Caine stabs to death).
Until last night I had never gotten the Joanna Pettet thing. But her late-night marital dispute scene with Baker is one of the film’s strongest, at least in terms of intimate currents and whatnot.
A friend of Sharon Tate‘s from the mid ’60s, Pettet is portrayed by Rumer Willis in Once Upon A Time in Hollywood. She’s now 77 and living (I’ve heard) somewhere in the vicinity of Palm Springs
Leigh Whannell‘s The Invisible Man (Universal, 2.28) is a reasonably well-made if somewhat rote and occasionally boring horror-thriller with a feminist slant. It’s basically a serving of calculated exploitation aimed at the #MeToo peanut gallery. That’s all it is, and all it will ever be.
It’s okay to shrug and call this piece of Blumhouse sausage a half-decent if uninspired genre exercise, but any critic who gives it an enthusiastic hug is being a political whore, trust me.
Nobody wants to dismiss a B-grade thriller that takes the side of a terrified if resourceful ex-wife (in this instance the sweaty, stressed-out, baggy-eyed Elizabeth Moss) trying to survive a campaign of terror by an invisible ex-husband. The deal is this: If you don’t like it you’re somehow unsympathetic to the cause so everyone “likes” it. Safer that way.
I shouldn’t have to repeat that we’re all living in a climate of revolutionary terror, but I guess I have to. Most critics simply can’t be trusted in such an environment. This is why The Invisible Man currently has a 90% approval rating on Rotten Tomatoes. This is a relatively okay film, granted, but calm down.
I sat in the front row during last night’s Arclight screening and went “uh-huh…uh-huh…uh-huh.” After a while I gave up and went “okay, whatever.” And then I started checking my watch every 15 minutes.
The Invisible Man is basically (a) a “terrified ex-wife is stalked by a brilliant, deranged, control freak ex-husband” flick (closely related to 1990’s Sleeping With The Enemy) mixed with (b) Paul Verhoeven‘s Hollow Man (’00).
The latter, of course, was a high-tech riff on James Whale‘s original The Invisible Man (’33) with Claude Rains.
In both the Verhoeven and the newbie the invisible bad guy is a brilliant arrogant scientist (played in The Invisible Man by Oliver Jackson-Cohen and by Kevin Bacon in The Hollow Man). Moss is basically playing an antsier, more wild-eyed version of Elizabeth Shue‘s role in The Hollow Man — the panicking ex-girlfriend whose invisible boyfriend has gone bonkers. The difference this time is that Jackson-Cohen’s character was deranged to begin with. Or he was before he “died.”
Question to Whannell: Why did Moss’s Cecilia Kass, whom we’re told to sympathize and identify with…why did she marry this super-rich psycho to begin with? Because…what, she couldn’t resist the idea of being wealthy? Or because he was completely sane and level-headed when she was first falling in love with him, and he only turned into a looney-tune when he became rich? HE calls bullshit on that.
Glenn Close as “Ma Bumblefuck” in Ron Howard‘s Hillbilly Elegy (Netflix, Oscar season). Apparently a supporting role. Her character is actually called “Mamaw”…accent on the second syllable, rhymes with Macaw. Check out the wardrobe and grooming! An oversized pink KMart T-shirt, spotted baby blue slacks, gray and white brillo-pad hair.
Close almost won the Oscar for The Wife in early ’19, and then The Favourite‘s Olivia Colman snatched it away. Close has to win this time…she has to.
J.D. Vance’s 2016 novel, a portrait of how things got worse and worse for white downmarket Americans over the last 30 or 40 years, was adapted into a multi-generation narrative by Vanessa Taylor (The Shape of Water).
Vance’s book is more of a personal recollection than a narrative.
“An extraordinary testimony to the brokenness of the white working class, but also its strength”, said one reviewer. “A harrowing portrait of much that has gone wrong in America over the past two generations,” said another. HE plug, sight unseen: “A stirring tribute to the yokels who put Donald Trump into the White House and in so doing nearly destroyed the country…thanks!”
Costarring Amy Adams as Bev Vance and Freida Pinto as Usha Vance…can we just stop right there? Has anyone who’s visited a bumblefuck town or region (Kentucky, Ohio, Arkansas, Mississippi) ever noticed native women who look as pretty as Adams and Pinto? Drop-dead beatiful is not exactly an everyday feature of Bumblefuck culture…be honest. Beautiful eyes or wonderfully symmetrical facial features don’t come with the territory.
Costarring Gabriel Basso as J.D. Vance, Haley Bennett as Lindsaym, and Bo Hopkins as “Papaw.”
Glenn Close during filming of Ron Howard’s Hillbilly Elegy.
Michael Winner‘s Scorpio (’73) is a midrange, mostly unexceptional spy thriller about CIA management trying to assassinate an apparent double agent named Cross (Burt Lancaster) who, they believe, has probably been sharing information with the Russians. The would-be assassin is Jean Laurier aka “Scorpio” (Alain Delon), a Cross protege from way back.
Sydney Pollack‘s Three Days of the Condor was a much better film of this sort (i.e., amoral CIA higher-ups scheming to murder one of their own), but at least Scorpio came early in this cynical cycle. Shot in the early summer of ’72, just before the Watergate break-in. Released on 4.19.73, just as the Watergate coverup was beginning to unravel.
And yet Scorpio, for all its underwhelming aspects, has a great payback scene in which Lancaster and a couple of wily freelancers manage to quietly plug the hardnosed CIA chief (John Colicos) who’s been out to eliminate Lancaster and whose CIA henchmen have murdered Lancaster’s wife.
I like this scene so much that I’ve watched Scorpio a couple of times over the last couple of decades, despite my less-than-enthusiastic view of it. I’m even considering buying the Twilight Time Bluray, mainly because it’s ten bills with shipping. I don’t know if this is a category or not, but what other films (if any) are people soft on because one and only one scene works especially well?
Scorpio boasts a couple of scenes between Lancaster and Paul Scofield, as a kind of Russian counterpart, that aren’t too bad. It also has an amusing bit in which Lancaster slips past U.S. customs by disguising himself as a bearded African-American minister.
Post-release Lancaster said Scorpio was “nothing incisive, just a lot of action” and was “one of those things you do as part of your living, but you try to avoid doing them as much as you can.”
The Aero was totally packed for Saturday night’s (2.22) screening of Elem Kimov‘s Come and See. A strange, surreal, odd-behavior film during the first half, and a devastating antiwar horror film during the last 50 to 60 minutes. Brutal, savage, compassionate art — a landmark effort.
L.A. Times critic Justin Chang was there; ditto Peter Rainer and Paul Merryman, producer of Rod Lurie‘s The Outpost, which will soon debut at South by Southwest. I discussed it earlier today with Lurie briefly. I also kicked it around with my son Dylan, who’s watched it two or three times.
Lurie: “The last time I met Roger Ebert he asked me to recommend a film that I’d assumed he’d never seen. I gave him Come and See. A few weeks later he wrote about it in his Great Films series. That ending shot of the lead protagonist, Florya (Aleksei Kravchenko), shooting the framed Hitler photo is what I think inspired that shot of the killing of Hitler in Inglourious Basterds.”
Lurie believes that Come and See “is maybe the best war film I’ve ever seen, certainly once the invasion of Belarus begins.”
Born in October of ’69 and somewhere around nine or ten years old (older?) during filming, Kravchenko is now 50. I’m not exactly certain when principal photography started and ended, but I think it began sometime in ’77.
“I’m really worried about our ability to defeat Donald Trump if [Bernie Sanders and Michael Bloomberg] are our final two choices. If we have to choose between somebody who wants to burn things down in a way that I think a lot of American just don’t identify with, and somebody else who thinks he can just buy this with a personal fortune of a billionaire…I don’t think either of those choices is going to make it possible for us to bring American together and defeat this President.
“That’s why I’m offering a different approach. I think most of us agree that we can do a lot better than the President we have now, and that we have to change things in this country before it’s too late.”
HE to Pete: It breaks my heart to admit this, but it’s already too late. We’re all locked into a kind of electoral penitentiary right now, and our jailers, I regret to say, are purist progressives, Millennials, Bernie Bros and to a large extent African American voters (particularly the older homophobes). We’re basically fucked because of these guys, and partly because fellows like Kid Notorious think moderate progressives like yourself are the problem and not Bernie. It’s pretty close to a hopeless situation.
Donald Trump and Vladmir Putin couldn’t be more delighted. Stick a fork in me.
Team Trump is naturally delighted and relieved that Bernie Sanders will be the nominee. As recently reported by intelligence sources Putin, who wants the gullible, useful-idiot Trump to have another term, is happy about this also. Down-ballot Republicans are also reportedly elated about Bernie.
God help us but it’s all falling into place for the right. Trump is naturally biding his time and keeping silent about Bernie’s ascendancy. But when he gives the order after Democratic voters have locked Bernie in solid, it’ll be a massacre..
Nate Silver has reminded that Sanders has never been “punched” by the rightwing fear and hate machine. Just wait.
I can’t believe this is happening. Well, I can but this feeling of gathering horror and the numbing of the community spirit is horrible. We’re still in February and we’re already fucked. The Bataan death march begins today in Nevada.
I meant to tweet “dooming us all to 2nd Trump term.”
